


I Can't Sleep Without You

by Kaapp



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Platonic Bed Sharing, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 11:52:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaapp/pseuds/Kaapp
Summary: John and Sherlock have troubles sleeping on their own till one day they discovered everything can be solved by sharing their sleeping space. Bed sharing cliché, fluff and lots of sleep.





	I Can't Sleep Without You

John couldn’t sleep, their last case still on his mind. The poor kids, victims of a psychopath. Kids were always the worst. John knew Sherlock wouldn’t sleep that night either but for different reasons, his mind was still running 500 km/h after a case. It will take some hours till it calms down from its high of the chase.

 

John tried to overstay in the living room as much as he could, not feeling very keen to go to bed, knowing he wouldn’t get to fall asleep so easily. Yet he didn’t want Sherlock to suspected anything wrong so he tried to act like he usually does.

 

“I’m off to bed,” he said standing up from his armchair where he had just finished his tea. He suppressed a yawn, “good night.” Sherlock was probably still in his mind palace so he didn’t reply and John doesn’t even think he heard him leaving the room.

 

Hours later, John laid awake in bed, changing positions every 10 seconds, not finding a good enough position to sleep in. What’s the point anyway, as soon as he closed his eyes he would see the bodies of those kids. 

 

John scolded himself, he had been in war, he was a doctor, he had seen a lot of bad stuff in his life. Yet this case had shaken him up. He shifted his position and slap his pillow. He finally gave up on sleep and decided to get a glass of water or maybe tea to calm him down. Maybe he’d stay and watch a little bit of crap telly and would finally fall asleep in his chair.

 

He didn’t expect walking into the living room to see Sherlock asleep on the sofa though. The detective’s hair was a mess of curls, and John could hear a small snoring which made his mouth twist in amusement and fondness. 

 

He realised though, sleeping on the couch was rather uncomfortable, especially for Sherlock with his height, he barely fit in it. 

 

“Hey Sherlock,” John spoke softly, shaking slightly his shoulder, “wake up, time to go to bed.” 

 

“Mh?” The detective grumbled, “I can’t sleep.” He said still half asleep, his eyes still closed.

 

“Well obviously you can.” John chuckled, “come on let me put you in bed or tomorrow you’ll regret falling asleep on the sofa.”

 

“I must have fallen asleep while I was in my mind palace,” Sherlock explained, blinking a few times. 

 

“Go to bed you must be exhausted the last few days haven’t been easy.”

 

Sherlock shook his head, “I rather not. I prefer to have my mind occupied.”

 

“Well would like a cuppa? I was about to do one for myself.” John wasn’t about to ditch some company right now. And a grumpy Sherlock was better than crap telly at one A.M. in the morning.

 

A few minutes later, both were on the sofa sipping their tea, Sherlock was lying on  ⅔ of the sofa, leaving only a little bit of space for John to sit.

 

John had turned on the telly after all, even if it was just for background noise. He put down his cup after he finished and leaned into the back of the sofa. Somehow without John realising Sherlock's feet found themselves in John’s lap. He didn’t mind though. 

 

Before he realised, John’s eyes were drifting close as he fell asleep in seconds with the security of a warm body beside him.

 

The next morning, John woke up with a sore neck, his back hurt but at least he had slept for a few hours. Sherlock was still fast asleep on his left side, his face against the back of the sofa, light snoring.

. 

John stood up, moving slowing to not wake up Sherlock and rubbed his neck as he made to the kitchen. One hour later, John had taken a shower, dressed up for work and had finished his breakfast when the mad genius woke up.

 

“Good morning sunshine.” John teased as Sherlock glared at him and turned around, his back towards the living room. 

 

Sherlock was not a morning person and anyone who dared to speak to him before he had taken a shower or had enough time to wake up properly would be faced with an angry glare. John loved to do it though, especially since it annoyed the detective so much, “So nice in the morning.” John said.

 

“Ugh John, how can you be so cheerful in the morning, I will never understand,” He grunted and then turned around to look John up and down, deducing, “especially with your back and neck hurting from the position you slept in all night.”

 

“Best sleep since a long time” John was only half joking, he did sleep a little bit better with Sherlock near by.

 

“I will have to agree.” 

 

“By the way, you snor,.” John said sipping his tea, hiding his smirk behind the rim of the cup.

 

“I do not.” Sherlock denied.

 

“Yes you do,” John laughed, he then looked at his watch “It’s time to go,” He dropped his cup on the sink, “I’ll see you around 6.”

 

“Where are you going?” Sherlock asked, intrigued.

 

“Work.” John shout descending the stairs.

 

“Boring.” Sherlock mumbled, ready sulking all day on the couch.

 

[......]

 

Later that night, John was once again incapable of falling asleep. He sighed. Yesterday he managed just fine, maybe it was the tea, or the couch, it was kind of comfortable, for a couch. Or maybe it was just being close to someone, feeling that you are not alone. Or maybe it’s just being close to Sherlock.  

 

_ Hell with it _ , he thought,  _ let’s sleep on the couch. _ John got up and picked his pillow and a blanket. There was no use stay in bed if he can’t sleep so he’ll just sleep on the couch for tonight to test his  _ theory _ as Sherlock would say it. Arriving in the living room, Sherlock was already there with a computer on his lap. He lift his head  as he saw John arriving and asked, “What are you doing?”

 

“Sleeping on the couch.” John said while dropping his pillow and blanket.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I can.”

 

“I’m using the couch tonight.” Sherlock raised his chin trying to look important, “It’s for an  experiment.”

 

“Yeah me too, so push over so we can both fit.” John didn’t let Sherlock have the last word and sat down on the couch. 

 

They struggled a little bit to find the perfect position which who fit both of them but finally found one who wasn’t too uncomfortable. Each head lying on the opposite from the other. Sherlock being taller, his feet were almost touching John’s cheek while John’s feet only went till Sherlock’s shoulders.  John was facing the living room while Sherlock was facing the back of the couch.

 

“Unbelievable” Sherlock cursed.

 

“If you’re not happy you can always go to your room where there’s a proper bed.” John argued.

 

“I could say the same for you.”

 

“Yours is closer, less effort to get there.”

 

“It’s my couch,” Sherlock said in a sulking voice.

 

“Sherlock shut up and go to sleep.” John said exasperated, eyes closed.

 

Sherlock huffed but quickly fell asleep.

 

[......]

 

Sleeping with Sherlock definitively improved John sleeping rest. He didn’t knew why or how and honestly he didn’t care if it mean he could have a good night of sleep. Now how would John ask Sherlock to sleep beside him without sounding weird. John scratch the back of his head trying to find an valid answer. 

 

Sherlock on the other hand also knew that  sleeping with ,  beside John worked wonders, he also knew that it was the same for John. But he’d let John work it out by himself. However Sherlock was eager to reproduce the same experiment in a real bed to see if the results would be the same. He only had to come up with clever ideas to share a bed with his flatmate, for sleeping experiment purpose only.

 

“John,” Sherlock called one day when they were both in their respective chairs sipping their tea.

 

John only ‘hmm’ as an acknowledge, his eyes focused on his newspaper.

 

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” He asked bluntly.

 

John put down his paper and  narrowed his eyes as he looked up to his flatmate.

 

“What’s wrong with yours?” John knew that he should have said no directly, but his tongue and mouth formed other words.

 

“An experiment has gone wrong in my room, the process is rather tedious so I won’t bother you with the details, However it comes to the fact that I am in the incapacity of sleeping in my room for tonight and maybe a couple more since it smells awfully. It’s a mix of rotten fish and eggs. It’s unbearable.” Sherlock even pull a face of disgust to make a point.

 

John sniffed the air curiously, but his nose didn’t catch any unwanted odor.

 

“I don’t smell anything.”

 

“Of course not, we’re in the living room.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. John gave him a glare for mocking him but didn’t argue Sherlock’s excuse. 

 

“Fine,” John sighed, “You can share mine till yours is smelly free, as long as you don’t hog the covers. I don’t want to get chill at night.” John finished his tea and went to read the newspaper. 

 

Conversation over. 

 

Step one of experiment on,  Sherlock smiled to himself.

 

[......]

 

“Ugh, Sherlock, I told you to not hog the covers!” John complained, pulling the covers from Sherlock’s grip.

 

“I’m not.” The genius retorted.

 

“Yes you are.” John said turning his back to the detective.

 

“Your feet are warm, you don’t need them.” Sherlock said drawing closer.

 

“No, yours are just bloody cold.” John mumbled.

 

“Possibly. That’s why we should sleep as close as possible so that your heat-”

 

“I’m not your personal heater, Sherlock.”

 

“Might as well be.” Sherlock pouted.

 

John sighed, “Good night, Sherlock.”

 

Sherlock turned on his back, his hands over the covers, staring at the ceiling.

 

“Good night John.”

 

[......]

 

John was pissed.

 

He had broken his leg chasing after a criminal and now he had a cast and zero free mobility on his own and it drove him mad. he hated to be dependant of other people, especially in this case, dependant on Sherlock.

 

They were back at 221B after he was discharged of the hospital, Sherlock was helping him climb the stairs of the flat, an arm holding him under his armpits. It took time but they managed to walk into the living room.

 

“Let’s get you to bed.” Sherlock said, moving to his bedroom.

 

“Huh Sherlock,’ John stopped and pointed a finger upwards,  “my room is upstairs.”

 

“John it would be stupid of you to try to climb another amount of stairs when we barely managed the first one.”

 

“If I didn’t know you, I might have thought you wanted me in your bed, Sherlock,” John joked.

 

“And you obviously are still high on painkillers. Now let’s go to bed, I’m tired of carrying you around and you’re heavy than you look.” Sherlock stated.

 

“Hey ! It’s all hard muscles!” John replied smirking.

 

[......]

 

Now  they were in bed, both on their backs and shoulders touching.

 

“Thanks for sharing by the way.” John said. 

 

“No problem. I’m kind of getting used to falling asleep with you by my side by now.”

 

John yawned, “same here.”

 

And here they were again, sharing a bed. 

 

[......]

 

Since then, excuses started to grow more and more frequently by both parties in order to get to share the same sleeping space. Their excuses were getting duller and duller as time passed, they didn’t even tried to find a good argument anymore. It had become a fact. They would share a bed for some reason. 

 

“Sherlock, Can I sleep in your room? I spilled orange juice on my mattress.”

 

It never came to mind the use of spare sheets and the couch wasn’t mentioned as an option  by either of them. Both weren’t keen on pass this opportunity to share a night with one another. 

 

[......]

 

“It’s rather cold and we don’t have enough blankets apparently and the heater is broken so let’s cuddle for warmth.”

 

Sleeping next to each other bring a feeling of safety. And Sherlock was starting to like to have his own personal heater who could warm him up at night. Besides John’s calm and soft breath would calm him down and made him fall asleep.

 

[......]

 

“There’s a loud storm outside and I can’t sleep, can we watch a movie on my laptop and fall asleep together?” 

 

Done.

 

[......]

 

“I’m too tired to walk up the stairs.”

 

Done and worked perfectly.

 

[......]

 

The bed sharing became so quickly an habit that they no longer even used excuses anymore. John would simply get ready for bed and then would walk into Sherlock’s room and fall asleep while the Detective would finish an experiment or play the violin.

 

Hours later, Sherlock would join him in bed. John had taken use of sleeping on the left side of the bed, the closest to the door. Sherlock would crawl into the warm bed and rest on his right side, admiring John’s resting face. Sometimes when he didn’t fall asleep right away he would count John’s wrinkles, his long blond eyelashes, till he fell asleep.

 

Tonight, as Sherlock crawled into bed, the doctor shifted slightly in his sleep but didn’t wake up. Sherlock laid down and John moved closer, his chest laying gently against Sherlock’s back. He could feel John’s calm breath on the back of his neck. he closed his eyes, enjoying John’s proximity falling asleep in a matter of minutes which was a big improvement. John had the faculty to turn Sherlock’s brain off. He made everything easy. 

 

[......]

 

The next morning, Sherlock was the first to wake up, he let go of John’s sleeping body and went to shower. John must have been awaken by the sound of it since as Sherlock walked out of the bathroom, John was making breakfast.

 

“Good morning.” John greeted.

 

“Morning,” Sherlock replied, try to suppress a smile. It was indeed a good morning due to a very good night of sleep. 

 

By now, John stuff had slowly migrating to Sherlock’s room. He only realised that while he packed his suitcase. He had to leave for a Medical conference in France, which meant he would leave Sherlock alone for a few days. Sherlock of course wasn’t very pleased about it. John only hope he would behave while he was away. 

 

[......]

 

It was John’s first night at the hotel and also the first in a very long time since he was in a bed alone.  And he had to admit that John missed the detective miserably. His hand padded absently the other side of the mattress as if looking or expecting  for something but he was meet with emptiness and disappointment.

 

It was almost midnight and John had succeed to not call Sherlock today yet, it was a way to show that he wasn’t as dependent of him as he seemed. However he finally gave up after hours turning in bed. It only rang two times before Sherlock answer his phone.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hey,” John said, settling in bed into a better position as if he wanted to look good for Sherlock even though the man himself wasn’t in the room with him.

 

“Something happened? Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” Sherlock actually sounded worried.

 

“Sorry I didn’t meant to-uh-” John paused, trying to organizes his thoughts while not sounding too clingy,  “I mean I couldn’t fall asleep so I just was wondering what you were up to, since you rarely sleep at this hour.”

 

“Oh,” He heard Sherlock surprised voice, “Bored already of your doctors convention?”

 

“It’s a Medical conference and... yes, a bit.” He admitted while playing with the hem of the sheets.

 

“Well obviously or you wouldn’t have called me.” John let out a laugh. God he missed his genius. It hadn’t been more than 24 hours but he already missed him like crazy.

 

“If you knew why did you bother ask then?”

 

“It doesn’t hurt to be told when someone is right.” The baritone voice came from the other end making John’s lips quirk up as he smiled into his phone.

 

He shift his position on the bed so he would lie down on his right side, his head on the pillow. A comfortable silence installed itself. Both of them content enough of hearing the other one breathing over the line.

 

“You shouldn't have left Baker street.” Sherlock said a few moments later. John closed his eyes, burying his nose in his pillow, looking for a scent that he knew wasn’t there.

 

“I miss you too Sherlock.” He replied.

 

“When are you coming back?”

 

“Sunday Afternoon.”

 

“It’s  too faraway, make it in less.” Sherlock tried to negotiate.

 

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” John chuckled.

 

“Fine, but I’m sleeping in your side of the bed tonight.”John face brightened at that last comment. _Does this mean he misses me as much as I miss him?_ “Next time don’t leave.” 

 

“You miss me this much huh?” John teased.

 

“I have no one to complain to, and there’s no case on, Lestrade is on vacations and every client that came up with a case had it solved without leaving the flat. Dull.”

 

“Well don’t shoot the wall, would you?” John said a little concerned.

 

“I can’t make any promises.”

 

John simpered and the line went silent again. No one having anything else to say. John closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

 

“Can’t sleep?”

 

“No,” John mumbled into his pillow,  _ How am I supposed to sleep without you? _ , He thought.

 

“Me neither. Your pillow smells divinely though. I guess it’s a good enough substitute for the time being. ”

 

“You’re smelling my pillow?”

 

“I told you I was sleeping on your side tonight.”

 

“That reminds me,” John stood up from bed went to search through his suitcase. He found Sherlock’s blue scarf that he took moments before he left the Flat. He inhale the scent as he closed his eyes, he could almost feel back home.

 

“John, you still there?”

 

“Yeah, sorry. I was just getting something out of my suitcase.”

 

“My scarf?”

 

“How-how did you know?”

 

"There’s a reason it was put in plain side, John."

 

“You knew I would pick it up.” John laid back into the bed, he arranged the scarf to be between his face and the pillow and took his original position. “Why did you do that?” John asked. 

Usually flatmates don’t do this kind of stuff. They don’t share a bed either or say that they miss each other over the phone late at night. 

 

“So that you wouldn’t miss me,” Sherlock said finally.

 

“I still do but it’s more bearable so thanks.”

 

John then turned on his other side and put the phone on speaker so that he could put it beside him on the other pillow. Once he was correctly installed he heard Sherlock huff. 

 

John frowned, “What’s the matter?”

 

“The heater is still broken remember? I’m freezing here. Trying to not die from hypothermia.” 

 

“Always melodramatic. Put on a jumper or coat.” John suggested.

 

“I don’t wear Jumpers John !” Sherlock tone shown how offended he was by the proposition. “Beside I can’t sleep with my coat on, it’s absurd and uncomfortable.”

 

“It’s that or freezing to death as you mentioned.” John reminded, “You can always borrow one of mine if you change your mind.” He then added.

 

A few seconds later, he received a photo of Sherlock wearing one of his jumpers with the caption “Happy?” It was short on the leaves and waist but John loved the sight.

 

“You were the one complaining.” John argued, “anyhow, I thought you said you hated my oatmeal jumper.”

 

“It is rather ugly but when one wears it, one don’t see it on itself. I know now why you keep it.”

 

“I disagree, I like seeing you with my jumper.”

 

“You clearly have awful taste John.”

 

“Oi !” John exclaimed indignantly, trying to suppress his laugh.

 

“Although this jumper doesn’t replace you it sure smells a lot like you. Iin times like this I really miss having you as my personal heater.” Sherlock confessed.

 

“Is it the only use that I have for you? Is that why you keep me around?” 

 

“No, John, of course not, there’s a number of other things that I like about you.”

 

“Well there’s also a thousand things that I like about you so we’re tied.”

 

“We both win?”

 

“Yeah.” John yawned.

 

“You should go to bed you still have to wake up early tomorrow for your conference.”

 

“Yeah, I probably should,” John said yawning for the second time.

 

“Good night John.”

 

“Good night Sherlock,”He mumbled, ”love you.”

 

“I love you too John.”

 

John hung up, eyes closed, slowly drifting to sleep when suddenly his eyes opened bluntly, his heart beating fast.  _ Shit did I just confess my love for Sherlock? And he did he just said he loved me back??? _

 

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and John was completely awake. He jumped out of bed and went to the door only to be faced with the particular person he was thinking about barely a few minutes ago.

 

“Sherlock? What are you doing here? how-? We were just on the ph-”

 

John didn’t have the time to finish his sentence that Sherlock had already walked into the room kissing him eagerly to which he responded immediately, feeling the caress of Sherlock’s lips. 

 

“You can’t just tell me that you love me and then hang up.” He growled in his low baritone voice. 

 

His lips found John’s one more time, moving and invading John’s mouth in a greedy kiss. It was messy and frantic, both fighting for control, both full of lust and want, hands everywhere. Sherlock then started peppering kisses along John’s jaw till he reached the doctor’s earlobe and nibbled at it. John moaned while he tipped his head to the side, exposing more of his neck, eager to receive whatever Sherlock was offering.

 

“I-I” John had lost any brain function, Sherlock kisses making him breathless. “God Sherlock.” 

 

John grasped the back of Sherlock’s neck, drawing the genius to his lips so that he could kiss him once more and moaned into the kiss as he felt Sherlock’s tongue doing wonders.  _ This guy is really a bloody good kisser.  _ John’s hands then moved down Sherlock’s body and gripped Sherlock’s arse firmly, his mouth hungry, licking and sucking desperately. 

 

His lips were delicious, and John was sure he had become addicted to it in few seconds he had been in contact with. He could no longer live without them. Sherlock tried to break the kiss but John would let him, always chasing after his mouth.

 

Sherlock clutch John’s shoulders as he shoved him against the end of the mattress lips still locked on each other. The Detective pushed John vigorously onto the bed and straddled him, instantly trying to yank John’s T-shirt over his head. When he finally succeeded he let his hands run freely over John’s chest and biceps, kissing him along his neck, alternating with small bites, earning a groan from John who started to unbutton Sherlock’s shirt so that they would reach an equal state of undress. Then he moved to unbuckle Sherlock’s trousers.

 

John could feel Sherlock’s erection between them, he was hard and he couldn’t help himself and tried to buck his hips so they would meet Sherlock’s and moaned when his length pressed against his. When he finally finished getting rid of all their clothes except for their pants, they shared a languid kiss. 

Sherlock was still on John’s lap, rocking against him, grasping John’s strong shoulders and letting out desperate whining noises as the pleasure built itself. John's hands were running up and down Sherlock’s spine till they settle on his hips. Sherlock groaned and tilt his head back.  _ God, what a magnificent man. How did I turn out to be so lucky? _

 

Sherlock’s head fell onto John’s shoulders as they kept thrusting against each other. Sherlock turned his head into John's neck and sucked avidly and John moaned loudly, his hands dropped instantly to fondle Sherlock’s arse. their pants being the only amount of clothes keeping them apart.

 

Then Sherlock started to slide down John’s body, keen to discover his lover, kissing and humming along with the way in appreciation. He nipped at his collarbone, then paid extra attention to John’s hard nipples, making his straining cock twitch. When Sherlock reached John’s belly he slowed down, keeping John on the edge. John, eager ran his fingers through Sherlock’s locks, trying to guide him to where he wanted him to be, but Sherlock, who didn’t like to be told what to do, took his time. 

 

By the time Sherlock arrived to John’s prick, the doctor was already leaking considerably by all Sherlock administrations. Sherlock grinned and decided to tease him a little bit longer. He laid butterfly kisses along John tights down to his knee while his right hand was massaging John’s other leg. 

 

“Sherlock…” John gasped, his hand found Sherlock’s right one on his tight, and entangled their fingers together, “love, please,” he begged.

 

Sherlock finally gave in and stripped John from his last piece of clothing. And John shuddered when he felt his lover’s breath hot and humid over his groin. 

 

Sherlock gave a few licks over the head and then Sherlock took him in his mouth. John moaned loudly, closing his eyes from such pleasure and cradling the back of Sherlock’s head, not tugging but stroking his hair amorously. That earned him an appreciative moan from Sherlock. 

 

“Oh, Sherlock.” John was sure this was one the best blow jobs that John had ever had. He forced himself to look down so that he could see Sherlock’s handsome face while he sucked him divinely. The sight only brought him closer to the edge, he arched his back as Sherlock kept on doing wonders with his mouth and tongue.

 

Just as John came crying out Sherlock’s name, he woke up. His breath was shallow, he could feel his heart beating against his chest. He lied on his back running a head over his face and trying to come back to reality.

 

_ Fuck, it was a dream. Just a fucking dream. _ He looked down at his wet pants and sighed. 

 

_ Sherlock wasn’t really there. He was at home, at Baker Street, sleeping in their bed, yes  _ _ theirs _ _ , with his jumper and he had just confessed of loving him back. _

 

John shook his head, breathing deeply, trying to slow down his heart and tried to fell back asleep hugging the second pillow in the bed, wishing it was someone else.

 

[......]

 

John had just gotten out of his plane and was about to cross the airport looking for a cab when he saw a familiar face.

 

“Sherlock? What are you doing here? You usually don’t even realise when I leave much less when I come back.”

“John I-.” Sherlock  paused, “I couldn’t wait, After last night…”

 

And just then, John’s lips quirked up into a smile, He then cradled Sherlock’s jaw in his palm and pulled Sherlock down for a kiss. It wasn’t a hungry or passionate kiss like the ones they shared in John’s dream but rather loving and comforting. They kissed like they had the whole time of the world. And they did. 

 

So here they were kissing in the middle of an airport, People walking by, paying no mind for the two of them. Some might think they were just a couple like many others meeting after being apart for a long time and had been reunited.

 

When they broke apart, John brushed one of his fingertips across Sherlock's cheek, looking at his beautiful face glowing with happiness. John was sure he was mirroring the same expression of bliss. Sherlock’s eyes sparkled with love and satisfaction and he lowered his head for another kiss.

 

[........]

 

Life moved on as always but nothing change. After all, they already shared a bed.

The only addition in their lives since then was lots of kisses and a lot of snuggles and of course wild sex.

 

The end.


End file.
